Uninstalled
by TheClockworkFaerie
Summary: Even computer programmes have feelings, right? No Pairings.


Uninstalled 

Idea and written by Shadowrunner240

Vocaloid Cast © Crypton Future Media  
Original Cast © Shadowrunner240

-/-

Do you want to delete this programme?

**[Y/N]**

_That's all it takes: a click of the mouse. Yes or no – straight forward answers. So why am I so hesitant to do so? _I stared at the programme in front of me. It was a wall of computer text, ones and zeroes. So why was I so terrified of deleting such a simple programme? It wasn't as if I were simply amazed by it. It was a voice synthesising programme – to sync singing with voices. Or I think; it wasn't mine. A friend had lent it to me so I could get the programme; and they apparently thought it would be a nice joke to see me frustrated with the foreign language. Muse was pumping out of my stereo, loud enough for me to hear it; but low enough for my parents to not complain. I scowled darkly at the screen, flashing innocently with the "Yes/No" commands. I swivelled the mouse to click the 'Yes' command; when I heard a voice in my head.

_Master... master do you __**hate**__ me? _I widened my eyes in shock. Surely I was hearing things – too much caffeine or too many sweets. I was having illusions, I was positive. Yet, why was I spooked out by that simple question? _Master... master don't hate me. I tried. I tried to be helpful. I tried to be useful... am I... am I not __**special**__? Am I not what you __**desired**__? _The small voice grew smaller and smaller, and I swear that I heard crying. _I... I'm sorry that I failed you, master... but please, please don't erase me! Don't __**uninstall **__me! _The voice begged, and I felt hesitation. Instead of doing either; I closed out of the programme I was in; and shut down everything, the noise fading into silence as I turned everything off. I was, to say in layman terms, spooked.

That was terrifying. I _never _had something like that happen to me; ever. It was practically a decree that weird things _did not happen to me. _That happened to the scherzos and psychopaths with the occasional fad. I was a sane person. I got straight A's at school. I was captain of the literaryteam at school. I was technology-brained; I could work with computers. I was attending Cambridge in the fall. _Nothing was weird. _I was like every other teen; a caffeinated hyper-active person. That was considered normal for our age. So when I begin to hear voices in my head begging me to not 'uninstall' them; I became rather concerned for my mental health.

"Maybe it was just a random thought taking voice of a character of mine," I reasoned to myself logically, knowing that wasn't the truth, but at the moment I didn't want to think of the other possible solution. "Yeah, that's what's going on. Just another character moment." With that happy thought in mind; I left my computer (after checking that it was indeed, shut off completely), went to take a shower.

As I stated before, _bad things didn't happen to me._

-/-

I pushed my homework books away with a yawn, my vision blurring. It was well past midnight; and I had school tomorrow. Giving a tired groan, I got up from my desk and stretched leisurely. I had been working since about seven on my homework (there wasn't much; but it was all rather difficult); and knew that when my vision began to see the words blend with one another, I'd better get to bed. I turned the main light off, and after stumbling in the dark for about three minutes; I was able to make it to my bed in one piece. My head hit the pillow, and I was out like a light within minutes.

-/-

_I was standing within a computerized room. It was silent, and even though the computers made beeping noises, indicating notices and whatnot, it was rather disturbing. There was no one around – it was deserted. I somehow knew where to go, as I walked out of the room that I was in. Peering into the hall, I noticed that there weren't a soul in sight. Where were the people of this place? Why make the place look decrepit and whatnot? They obviously didn't take care of the place very well. _

_Heading to the left seemed like a good idea, and it seemed that the hallway took forever. I finally reached the end, only to see a pair of doors. They both seemed to be covered with what looked like dried blood. I saw what looked like corpses – their mouths open with a silent scream staring at me forced me to shut my eyes and quell the queasiness in my stomach. _

_Shivering, I turned around to go back to that room to find more answers – only to find a mysterious man blocking my path. Blood covered him – his blue eyes wide and vacant; a cleaver in his hand. Blood caked his skin and bathed his blue hair; staining the blue muffler that seemed to be wrapped at least twice around him. The cleaver in his right hand was stained with blood, his hands dyed in it. Blood also stained his clothes, the odd splotch here and there. Freezing; I felt my breath hitch, and I really did try to think rationally._

Who was he? _Was the dominate thought that circulated in my mind. The others were _What will happen if he sees me? _and, _What will happen if I move? _The stranger, however, was looking not at me; but at something else. Suddenly, the hand holding the cleaver twitched, and he looked up at me, a forlorn look in his eyes._

Master, _that voice – was he the one from before? _Master, how lovely is it to see you here, in my realm. I welcome you, Master, to my humble home. _Ok, his realm; what did he mean by that! The man opened his arms wide, spreading to show the chaotic creation that surrounded us. _I did it Master, I did it. I took away those who were in our way. Now you and I can be together again. I... I missed you Master. _Was this guy off his bleeding rocker? I backed up against the door; feeling nauseated by the smell of blood. My stomach was sure to decide to scream and cause me to vomit, and my knees felt weak. It may seem cliché and the same old same old, but it was the truth! Fear held me in its clawed grip, and I almost felt the need to scream; until his voice (I think he was speaking; but I couldn't be sure) was heard again._

Master, master... _he began to step towards me; the sadistic smile never leaving his lips, nor the vacant look in his eyes. He stared at me with those vacant blue eyes... holding me ensnaring like a hare. I stared, transfixed as he finally drew level with me. _The others were in the way. I had to get rid of them Master, _he seemed to suddenly be pleading with me. _I had too – they were in the way... the way of us. _... Alright then; I blinked – and the spell that held me in place had broken. _

_"Wh... Who are you?" I asked, and he seemed hurt. He looked as if he had been sacked twice, and then kicked in the stomach. He pulled back and hugged himself. Strangely, I felt bad for him. I didn't dare believe it, but I was sympathizing with the enemy. Oh God, I'm turning into my crazy, war-nut cousin._

Master, how can you forget me? I've been here, this whole time. _He pointed at my chest – at my heart. _I've been waiting to meet you for so long; but the others were in the way. I had to get rid of them... _I was confused; and stared at the cleaver held loosely in his grip. Who were the others? What did he mean, by the fact that I knew him? Something was seriously messed up; and I think those corpses weren't just for show. _

_"Um... sorry," I knew that I could be treading on thin ice here – perhaps I should get back to the room where I woke up in, I might just find a way to get out of here. "It's just that I've been sleeping for a while, and my memory is faulty; can you help me out? What's your name?" the man sighed, running his hand through his hair; causing more blood to stain his hair a dark, interesting shade of purple._

My name is Kaito, Master. I only live to serve you, _the man, Kaito, bowed. _The others were in our way – only through me, Master, can you make the song sing true.

_"Err... ok then. Where are we, Kaito?" I asked, "And what happened here?" Kaito straightened, and looked around with a dark look. I could tell that anger had taken hold of him; and knew that I was starting to head into some serious, dangerous territory. _

You are in what we call 'Cyb3r', Master. The others were becoming too power-hungry, too greedy – corrupted by viruses. I had to stop them. I had to stop them from polluting the beauty and purity of song. You understand, don't you, Master? You understand why I had to kill them? _Kaito looked at me with sorrow, as if he wanted me to take his side. I nodded in agreement, silently understanding his pain._

_You see – my life, from what I said previously – may be perfect in every aspect there is. But in reality it wasn't. I come from a family of five, the youngest and most easily ignored. No matter what I did, no matter how __**hard**__ I pushed, my parents refused to acknowledge me. But instead of getting into fights, drugs, or anything against the law – I did what I could. I became the straight-A honour student. I was accepted to Cambridge, Yale; Oxford; I became head of the literary team – been to state in all my years of high school. I became everything – _everything – _that my parents wanted from their children. It was a wasted effort though; not the slightest acknowledgments from them... ever. Not once in my life had they ever cared. _

_Kaito, who had so far been pleasant to talk with, had suddenly become demonic. His blue eyes that had been full of sorrow and compassion for purity turned dark and vacant again. He stepped forward, raising the cleaver above him. "K-Kaito, wh-what's wrong," I asked afraid and backing back into the door. It had been opened, and I fell back onto the floor hard. I tried to scramble away, but a lifeless arm barred the way. Frustrated, I moved it, trying not to feel squeamish as I threw it out of my way._

Master... you're the only one here now... we can still sing, can't we? We can sing such beautiful songs Master – no one is here... we are the only ones... you can only pay attention to me now... _I was able to get halfway across the room, my eyes wide with terror. _Master... I can't bear it if someone's going to take my place...

_"Alright, it's alright Kaito!" I said, trying to placate him, "I won't forget you, I'll make sure that you're never uninstalled!" However, it seemed that he was no longer paying attention to anything I was saying. Some thought – some wild, unimaginable thought had grasped his mind, and seemed to take over his entire being. It was the fear of being abandoned – uninstalled. I tried in vain to calm him down – but to no success. I was against the wall now, and had been forced into a corner; Kaito standing above me with that psychopathic look and smiled sadly. _

The only way to fix the problem... _he whispered, raising the cleaver high, _is to **Uninstall**... don't you agree, my Master? You agree... don't you?

_The cleaver came down; screams echoing in the desolate building..._

-/-

"The police are baffled by this strange homicide. The teen Alex Fells; a child from a home of five, had been peacefully sleeping, when the next morning her parents had found their daughter lying in bed with a pool of blood." The news reporter said; staring at the camera in front of him; occasionally giving a brief glance at his papers, "This bizarreness of the death of the victim is that the police have found no sign of forced entry, not even fingerprints. Even the best detectives that are working on the case are baffled by this strange apparent murder."

The news reporter turned to a pair of parents sitting next to them; the mother shaking with tears as the father sat, tight-lipped and emotionless faced. "Mr and Mrs Fells, are you sure your daughter had no connection to gangs or any suspicious behaviours that may have led to suicide?" he asked. At this, the father jerked violently, the mother giving a wail; causing the father to wrap his arms tight around his wife; glaring at the news reporter; as if it were his fault that their daughter had died.

"Of course not," her father snapped, "She was a straight-A honour student. She was bound for Cambridge after school. My daughter wouldn't be so stupid to join a gang or commit suicide! As I said before over the phone, they didn't looked like they were self-inflicted." He gave the camera a steely glare, as if wanting the audience watching him to contradict him.

"A-Alex wo-wouldn't ha-ha-have done something stupid... a-a-as Vince sa-said, sh-she wasn't in-in-in a-a ga-gang o-or su-suspicious be-behaviours." Her mother said brokenly, trying to stop the flow of tears. "W-We've o-only lo-loved our child..."

As the news reporter closed the story revolving with the mysterious death of Alex Fells, a straight-A honour student from a family of five, no one ever noticed the innocent laptop in the girl's room with a message upon the screen:

_Master... Master, do you love me now?_


End file.
